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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27990960">Pride</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LauramourFromOz/pseuds/LauramourFromOz'>LauramourFromOz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Adventures of Hubble &amp; Hallow [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Worst Witch (TV 1998)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, London Pride, Pride Parades, Witches of Oz, lgbtq+</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:13:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,300</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27990960</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LauramourFromOz/pseuds/LauramourFromOz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mildred, Ethel, HB, Imogen, Fen and Gris go to pride.</p><p>This takes place in the 1998 series universe in the present day.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Constance Hardbroom/Imogen Drill, Fenella Feverfew/Griselda Blackwood, Mildred Hubble/Ethel Hallow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Adventures of Hubble &amp; Hallow [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2039242</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Pride Saturday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote most of this on what would have been Pride weekend ( Mid-November) in Adelaide, had it not been cancelled. I did hope to have it finished in time to post when we would have been marching but it still needed an ending.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Imogen Drill was not what one would call a natural choice as the wife of Consonance Hardbroom. They were very happy together, and had been for many years. Not that terribly many people had known about it until relatively recently. On the surface, they had exactly one thing in common, lesbianism. Nobody could get under HB's skin like Imogen, with the occasional exception of Mildred Hubble. HB liked having Imogen under her skin very much. Then again...</p><p>It was nine in the morning on Pride Saturday and HB returned to their rooms from her rounds to find Imogen looking out every item of clothing HB owned. She was, by Constance's estimation, about halfway through and there were items of clothing strewn from one end of the room to the other. </p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>HB sighed. One of these days she was going to make Imogen put everything back into perfect order when she did something like this. 'One of these days' had been coming for more than fifteen years.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What are you doing, my dear?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm trying to find you something to wear to pride later."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"And I can't wear what I'm wearing, because?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Will you agree to play along when someone asks what you're dressed as?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Will you put a pink flower in your hair and turn your skin green with a colour changing potion?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Absolutely not."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"That's why. After what happened last year..."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"That was not my fault."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It wasn't not your fault."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What's that supposed to mean?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You know perfectly well what it means, HB."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"And why, pray tell, have you waited until... two hours before we have to be there to start this exercise?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Because I forgot."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"And you are, of course, aware I own nothing you'd find suitable attire for this event. Exactly like every other year for the last decade and a half."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Will you concede to the green skin, if I concede the flower?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>HB made a vial of emerald liquid appear out of thin air.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"If you were..."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're cute when you're flustered."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Constance Hardbroom was not often one to be found in a particularly playful mood but it was pride. She could allow herself a little whimsy to make her wife smile. Between HB's hang ups derived from her family life and higher education, Imogen had a lot to deal with over the years. It had gotten better over the last few years. She who they didn't speak of was dead and burred and they'd won the right to marry, times had changed. The hang ups still lingered though, they were too firmly ingrained, held in place with too much scar tissue to be gone completely. Imogen understood, Imogen had always understood. All she asked was that HB march with her at pride. It seemed a small price to play and, to a point at least, HB did enjoy herself, not that she would say it aloud to any but a select few.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Well, are you going to try out the colour?" Imogen said.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Later. Mildred and Ethel are doing a Witches of Oz thing this year. Mildred asked me to make the potion. She didn't want to start strobing like the last time she tried it."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I didn't realise it was such a difficult potion."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It's not."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"And yet, it's too difficult for Mildred and Ethel? By your own admission, two of the most gifted student's you've ever had."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Keep your voice down."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Why, are you afraid someone might be lurking invisibly listening in? You're the only one around here that does that, my love."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>An hour or so later they were at Mildred and Ethel's London flat. It was nice and not much more than ten minutes from the parade's starting point and so there were about a dozen other people there getting ready. Fenella and Griselda had brought some of their own pupils and staff along, so their number was a little heavier than usual. They wouldn't be joining them in the traditional post pride bar hopping though. A few Cackle's girls had asked for permission to come down but they were making their own way. They'd be marching close by with thee rest of the magical community and they'd be able to find HB and Imogen if they needed to but they were expected to stay with the cluster of student witches and wizards.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Mildred handed HB a shot glass of the emerald potion, retaining one for herself. They both drank. It worked a little too well. They were now emerald all over. And it looked...</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I can fix this," Mildred said, starting for the bedroom.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I would hope, Mildred Hubble, that I'd taught you better than to mix spells."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"And here I thought you'd developed at least some faith in me."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She returned a moment later with a tube of concealer and a bottle of black nail-polish.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>HB smiled.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Mildred applied the concealer to various places on HB's visible skin. the corners of her eyes, a patch behind her ear... to make it appear as if she'd missed a spot or two with the green. She then painted HB's fingernails black, because the green had looked odd.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>HB shook her hands out and the nail-polish was instantly dry. She reflected, as she returned the favour, that if someone had come up to her when Mildred first crashed over the Cackle's wall and told her that this was where they'd end up... She'd have had them committed. There were a lot of things about her life that would have surprised her twenty years ago. She glanced thoughtfully at her wife. Her very non-magical, very female wife. Not that she'd never known she was a lesbian, she'd known since she was about twelve years old. She hadn't even really doubted same sex marriage would come around eventually. It had simply never occurred to her that she'd have one. But here she was. Looking at Mildred was unnervingly like looking into her own reflection. If it weren't for the several layers of impossibility Mildred might have been HB's long lost love child.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. After Pride</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pride was pride. Everything happened all at once in a rainbow haze. It was loud and vibrant, and frankly a little much for Constance. Imogen was having a good time though, so she could put up with it. After the march they'd lingered at the end point for a while. HB, Fenella and Griselda instructed their respective students to contact them if they got into trouble, giving them money for dinner and the cover for the magical underage club they were going on to.</p>
<p>They'd all gone to dinner when the crowd began to thin. For HB's sake they'd gone to a little out of the way place run by quite an eccentric witch who happened to be the mother of one of Fen and Gris' pupils.</p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>It was one of Mildred and Ethel's regular haunts. There was a playlist of queer folk music playing softly in the background in honour of the day. This was the calm before the proverbial storm.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Mildred was laughing at something Gris was saying. HB hadn't heard what. it was an open, robust laugh. Beside Mildred, Ethel was listening contentedly to whatever it was Gris was talking about, she was leaned in close to her wife. Imogen was listening too, her hand was rested warm on HB's thigh. HB's own hand rested atop it. Fen was talking to HB about the troubles one of her students was having, hoping for some wisdom from her old potions mistress. HB fully intended to offer said wisdom, just as soon as she could find it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Then came the bar hopping. HB liked this part the least, after the first half an hour or so, at least. She was always a little wrong footed in bars. The noise was an assault to her senses, pressing in from all sides. It was hot and generally unpleasant. It made her feel slightly ill. But Imogen was having a good time, so HB did her best to ignore it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>When HB excused herself for some fresh air, Mildred followed her into the alleyway.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I thought I was the only thing that made you make that face."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Not exclusively."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Here, something I've been working on."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Mildred handed HB a vial of dusky purple liquid.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>HB examined it cautiously.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What is it?" She said eventually.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Something I've been working on. After you mentioned about the noise last year, I got to thinking, and then tinkering. It limits excess sensory stimuli."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It isn't going to make me go blind or deaf, temporarily or permanently, is it?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Ethel and I have both tried it out a few times. It's safe."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>HB looked at the vial thoughtfully and then took a generous sip, handing the, still half full, vial back to Mildred who drained it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Their skin, which at the beginning of the afternoon had been a brilliant emerald, had muted somewhat over the last few hours.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>HB's head was clearing quickly and a few moments later they went back in. Mildred had a renewed and familiar spring in her step.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>HB couldn't remember mentioning her sensory issues to Mildred at any point. It couldn't have been more than a passing comment between pubs the previous year. As a result of which Mildred had obviously put some effort into a solution.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I don't know why you're surprised, HB," Imogen said while they were on the dance floor.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It's a good potion too," HB said, spinning her.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Again, I don't know why you're surprised, my love. You taught her everything she knows."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hardly."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You've seen the finger thing?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What finger thing?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"That rock of ages finger thing you both do when you cast."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Rock of ages?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Imogen threw her hands up in the position HB and Mildred used when casting and nodded her head to  the Queen song hat was playing.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dawn was just kissing the horizon when they arrived back at Mildred and Ethel's flat after their night out.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Tabby and Nightstar looked at them all disapprovingly when they came in as if to say: 'And what time do you call this?' Not having received a satisfactory answer before losing interest, they wondered off.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"The spare room is made up for you if you want it, HB, Imogen. Fen, Gris, the couch is yours if you want it," Ethel said, "don't want you sneaking back into your school at dawn."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gris made a playful remark about Ethel being the school sneak and suck-up. Mildred gave her a shove.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>They all fell into their respective beds in short order.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Pride Sunday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Constance Hardbroom was a very considerate house-guest. They never got out of bed much before midday on Pride Sunday, a tradition they'd adopted from Haloween at Cackle's. At about half eleven Mildred woke to the smell of pancakes from the kitchen. Mildred went out to the kitchen to find HB making pancakes, which was another Pride Sunday tradition.</p>
<p>"Morning, HB," Mildred said, leaning against the kitchen counter.</p>

<p></p><div>
  <p>"Morning," HB said, "What's in that potion? I feel great."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>By way of response, Mildred made a neatly folded piece of paper appear between her middle and index fingers, holding it out for HB to take.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>HB wiped her hands on a tea towel and took it.  She studied the formula, written in purple ink and Ethel's immaculate hand, thoughtfully, recognising what Mildred had done immediately.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I wouldn't have thought of that, well done."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Mildred, after all these years, still got the same look she had as a schoolgirl whenever HB paid her a complement.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>HB neatly refolded and pocketed the formula.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Mind if I use it. I think it could really help one of my girls."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Go ahead."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Everyone else was still asleep. Fen and Gris were in  an, at best very awkward and at worst quite uncomfortable looking, entangled heap on the couch.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Your girls all get back alright?" Mildred said, helping herself to one of the already cooked pancakes.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Amelia called this morning. They all got back on time and in one piece. The other girls were all still up."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"How early did you ask them to be back?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>HB set the pancake batter aside and helped herself to a pancake of her own, casting a warming spell over the plate.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Midnight. The other girls had a bit of a party of their own last night. Some of the girls aren't out at home yet, so if parents are calling wondering why they aren't up yet they have a legitimate late night excuse. Plus, certain elements are less likely to make a fuss if..."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>They ate in companionable silence for a moment.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So, Mildred said, "what's new at Cackle's?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"We have a first year who is you incarnate."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm so sorry."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Well, if this one turns out half as well as the original..."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>There was that look again.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Ethel moseyed out of their bedroom right  about then. She was still slightly vague with sleep. She kissed Mildred on the head and stole part of her pancake by way of morning greeting.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Morning, HB," she said, helping herself to her own pancake.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Two dishevelled heads poked up over the back of the couch, having been roused by the commotion.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Where's Imogen, out for a run?" Gris said, sleepily.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Imogen, is sleeping like the dead. She is no longer young enough to stay out until dawn and then go for a run in the morning."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"She's younger than you, HB," Fen said.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>HB pointed at Fenella with a wordless spell that gave Fen the sensation of ice water running down the length of her spine. She shrieked and everyone else burst into peels of laughter which bought Imogen out.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What's going on out here?" Imogen said, sleepily.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Nobody bothered to reply.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Morning, dear," HB said, handing her a pancake.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
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